


every season hardening her gaze

by kathleenfergie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark Emma, Dark One's Dagger, Drabble, Excalibur, F/M, Oneshot, Season/Series 05, The Dark One (Once Upon a Time), drabbly oneshot, i'm sorry everyone is sad sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathleenfergie/pseuds/kathleenfergie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“i’m dying,”</i> she cries and he shakes his head, heart screaming. <i>“stop, killian.”</i></p><p><i>“swan,”</i> he sobs because it is all he has left in him. <i>“emma, please.”</i></p><p><i>“just hold me. i’m dying,”</i> she coughs blood onto his chest. <i>“just hold me.”</i></p><p>s5 oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every season hardening her gaze

**Author's Note:**

> whoopsie. literally this is not at all what i think is going to happen i just wanted to make killian sad apparently. also this show needs to start killing some people so hey. 
> 
> kind of weird and drabbly but i like it. 
> 
> don't own shit.

he realizes, sword in her belly and a sob ripping its way through his teeth, that his quest has come to an end. three hundred (and some) years spent pining for the dark one’s blood on his hand and here he is, staring at broken sea glass eyes. he can see the battle on her face, how she holds herself up as long as possible, trembling hands taking the serpentine blade from her middle.

she whimpers his name before her knees give out, the pavement cracked from where the dagger fell to it all those weeks ago. he does not catch her, shell shock vibrating inside his skull. he gets there eventually, pulling her shaking body into his arms, chanting her name like it will save her.

pressing kisses to her brow and holding her tightly he pushes leather away to cover as much wound as possible. she is panting, scared of the blood on both their hands. she claws for his, whispering,  _“k_ _illian, killian, it’s done.”_ but he won’t let go, won’t let her bleed out on _main street_ , for god’s sake, his lips trailing[''p; true love up and down her face.

memories of his mother’s soft smile whip past his vision, her dark eyes kind.  _true love fixes all things_ _, killian_. she says this and waits for his father to come home, every season hardening her gaze.

_“i’m dying,”_  emma cries and he shakes his head, heart screaming. _“stop, killian.”_

 _“swan,”_ he sobs because it is all he has left in him. _“emma, please.”_

 _“just hold me. i’m dying,”_ she coughs blood onto his chest. _“just hold me.”_

and he does, he holds her, sobbing into her hair, hook wrapped around her side and bloody fist gripping her jacket, rocking back and forth. he has held too many as they greeted death; mother, brother, lover. she will be the last, he vows silently. he will not be the one to guide hearts to the locker any longer.

they say nothing, no fervent _i love you_ passed between bloody, tearstained mouths. there are screams and voices and names passing around him that he doesn’t register, blurred eyes staring at her pale skin. her lips tremble, eyes darting desperately.

he kisses her pearlescent brow again, one last futile attempt at believing he is capable of purity. there are hands everywhere, reaching for her and he will not let go as they pull for her body, growing cold against him. she shudders her last breath into his neck and he clenches his jaw to keeps the screams inside his chest from slashing the night sky, fat tears dripping eulogies down his face.

his quest is over and emma is dead and everything in this world that he believed himself to be worthy of disappears.

he lifts her from the bloody ground, arms heavy and footsteps tired. snow is sobbing her daughter’s name into david’s chest. henry is curled onto his side, fist pounding the pavement in teenage defiance, the queen too red hot and angry to comfort him. the thief does not touch her for fear of burning, murder blazing in her eyes. dwellers of the harbour town peek their heads out windows and around brick corners, casting sorrowful glances toward the pirate and his cargo.

he carries her, his last vigil, back to the loft. not the empty shell of a house she conjured for herself.

belle is holding a wailing neal, both already knowing what has come to pass.

he places her on the couch, though he’d much rather hold her in his arms until he becomes dust. he will not allow himself to be selfish much longer. not anymore. he has been selfish for three hundred bitter years. belle takes the baby away and he thinks of how he will not remember his sister. brave, intelligent, beautiful emma, with a broken heart for a weapon.

killian sits with her head in his lap and with a hand crusted with blood, stroke stray hairs away from her unwrinkled brow. it hurts, everything hurts, his chest, his throat, his hand, his skull. the party comes home crying silently, their dead daughter staining the couch. he watches henry, who still cannot stand with the weight of his grief on him, drop down beside her, mouth open in a silent scream, hands clutching at her middle.

snow kisses her daughter on the cheek before disappearing and he is grateful that there are no speeches, no declarations. let her die as emma; not a savior, not a dark one, not a fairytale. emma.

david lurks with dark, wet eyes but does nothing, jaw set so that it won’t wobble.

the queen is in the arm chair, hood thankfully absent for once, and she looks anything but regal in that moment. there are tears rolling freely down her face and her entire body is shaking, not looking at anyone in the room. she blames herself, he knows. he wants to, wants to rip his hook through her, but that is the anger that he has not let himself feel for the past two years flaring.

 _long live the queen_ , he wants to say. she looks as if she can hear him and the _fuck you_ is clear in her glare. but that is gone soon and the hollowness returns to her face, sucks the feelings right out of her skin. he understands, his own cheeks sagging away from his bones.

he stays with her body all night, hand never straying from her brow.

emma is dead and he might as well be.

_fin_


End file.
